A two person show titled ‘Relationship of Words and Images’, by Lahore-based artists Ahsan Memon and Hamid Ali Hanbhi, opened recently at Chawkandi Art Gallery in Karachi. The minimalist placement of the work gave ample space for the art to breathe and for the viewer to meander across the brilliantly self-curated space. Memon and Hanbhi studied sign and billboard painting before pursuing their art education at the National College of Arts (NCA). This is a familiar path for Pakistani artists in recent times.

But Memon and Hanbhi’s artistic trajectories are very different in orientation and imagery — so what allows this shared space to be so compelling? It seems that they have studied their work in its entirety and have kept the gallery space in mind as an important factor. Any show in which the larger structure — the space in which the work is shown — is considered critical in the viewing of the art, will invite and challenge the viewer.

And why shouldn’t it? Why should exhibition spaces be considered neutral? Why can’t they make you stop, and immerse you in experiencing an altered reality in the few minutes that you spend there? By their very nature, they are social as well as political spaces. If Hanbhi and Memon’s works were shown in another art gallery, the physical space would alter the work because the conditions of light and space would change. Not only that, but the ideological orientation of the gallery would also play a part in the reading of the work.

The subtext in this collective show by Memon and Hanbhi seems to be multi-layered. The notion of time is important here because Memon’s portraits in muddied green and blues, with eyes shut, seem to be suspended in a limitless surrounding. The artist pushes the colour by rubbing it endlessly into the canvas grain until it dissolves into an aura of muted hues. This atmospheric rendering, Memon says, happens without intention. He works well into the night, when it is quiet, till the morning light appears, suggesting that it is possibly this light of the early morning that feeds into the colour palette.

Two artists, each employing a distinctive style and imagery, create artworks bursting with atmosphere and subtext

This is a very different atmosphere than in the earthy blue greens of Sukkur-based painter Mussarat Mirza, whose landscapes are bathed in the light of the afternoon sun, and at all times remain suspended in a meditative aura. Memon highlights two of his larger portraits by painting the background wall a teal blue, which in turn draws out the juxtaposed greens and blues. There is this beautiful rhyme and expanse of colour, almost as if the viewer is standing in front of a colour field painting from the 1970s. We are unable to recognise what space that is, and this ambiguity is the ethos of Memon’s very convincing narrative.

Hanbhi, who paints relatively smaller oil on canvas artworks, places his paintings at the furthest end of the gallery. This, directly or indirectly, reflects a notion of stretching time. His process is to recreate an image from film clips of landscapes, selected by searching through scores of films. The artist takes ownership of the imagery by painting it in oil on canvas. He says that he enjoys the overlapping of colour in the transition from painting the sky to the land. What appears as black or green is actually a mixture of other colours. He then places some English text, like a subtitle, over the painted image. This text may come from an unrelated film.

The most poignant painting here is of a mound of earth that resembles a grave, with the inscription (subtitle) that reads, “I don’t wait for anyone.” The transformation of a moving image into a film still, and then to a painted scenario, much like the conventional landscape painting, alludes also to popular cultural iconography, something generic, borrowed and appropriated. The image and text have a dichotomous connection, where the location and time period are left uncertain and temporary. The superimposed text in English negates the conventional landscape, questioning our way of viewing, not only the history of art, but also our perception of reality.

‘Relationship of Words and Images’ was on display at Chawkandi Art Gallery in Karachi from August 28-September 4, 2024

The writer is an independent art critic, researcher and curator based in Karachi

Published in Dawn, EOS, September 8th, 2024